


Build Chamber

by Cesare



Series: Dog and Tiger [5]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Babysitting, M/M, Underage Character, Unresolved Sexual Tension, teen!Charles, teen!Erik, wee!Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is my friend Armando Muñoz,” Erik says instead. “Armando, this is Charles Xavier, I—” and he stops, because the rest of that sentence is <em>I used to babysit him</em> and saying that out loud suddenly seems really creepy.</p><p> </p><p>"Underage" warned for because Charles is 16 and Erik, 23, is attracted to him, but it goes no further than that.</p><p>Inspired by <a href="http://lynneh9.tumblr.com/">Lynneh9</a>'s images of <a href="http://codenamecesare.tumblr.com/post/29247358847/mrkinch-codenamecesare-lynneh9-30-day-otp">teen!Erik and wee!Charles</a>, along with her adorable drawing <a href="http://codenamecesare.tumblr.com/post/29832349492/build-chamber">Gotcha!</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Build Chamber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynneh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynneh/gifts).



"Serious question for serious consideration," Erik says over the laboring hum of the 3D printer. The plastic extruding through the steel nozzle used to feel vaguely disgusting to his sense of magnetism, but he's long since used to it by now, watching the machine sketch out a solid shape in ABS filament.

"Okay, this is my serious face," says Armando. "Shoot."

"How many people do you think have used this technology to print out dildos? No, for real!"

Armando forces his expression back into solemnity. "I guess it depends. Do you mean the lab printer, this one here? Or 3D printers in general? Because you can get home kits now for like... $350. Maybe less."

"I know. I really want a Printrbot."

"Considering your very serious question, I'm not sure if I should ask why. I've got to say, if you sneak in here and use the scanner to make a model of your dick, I don't want to hear about it."

"Erik?" At the voice behind him, Erik turns around to see a student who definitely isn't in the architecture program. Erik would've noticed him long before this, if he were.

Not just because he looks unusually young-- he's probably just babyfaced. A lot of freshmen look like zygotes to Erik now that he's working on his Masters. It's more the strange combination of such a youthful face and the savvy confidence in his smile and body language, all wrapped up in a crisp dress shirt and a cardigan. Plus, well... despite the fact that he still looks like he's carrying a freshly minted driver's license, he's really attractive. Erik's always been kind of a sucker for big blue eyes.

"Yeah?" Erik finally remembers to answer, as the other student's smile widens more and more.

"You don't remember me," he says, the words flavored with an English accent and obvious impish pleasure. "That's all right. I suppose we'll just have to start all over again." He sticks his hand straight out to Erik, stiff-armed and artless, and Erik does remember him, right before he says it: "Charles Xavier."

Erik gapes, his face heating. Of all the people he wouldn't have wanted to meet again while he was making dumb jokes about sex toys... which is stupid, he realizes that as soon as he thinks it. Charles was-- is-- a telepath, he probably knew more about sex toys before Erik ever met him than Erik will know by age fifty, but that never stopped Erik from wanting to cover Charles's ears when people cursed around him. Oh, God, and Erik was just thinking that he's _cute._

And from the size of Charles's grin, he's overhearing at least some of that. He relaxes his arm, offering his hand in a more natural gesture now. Erik finally shakes it. Charles is half a foot shorter than him, but his hand is nearly as big as Erik's, and strong; it's a shock. He used to seem so _tiny._

"What are you doing here?" he asks. "Are you looking at schools already? Isn't it kind of early for that?"

"It's a little late for that, actually," Charles laughs. "I'm halfway through my bachelor's in genetics."

"--You're sixteen," Erik says.

Charles shrugs easily. "It's my first year, but I've been taking AP classes and correspondence courses for credit. My father earned his doctorate when he was twenty-four. So my goal is to get mine by twenty-three."

Erik can't help feeling a little piqued over that. He's twenty-three now. He'll be wrapping up his Master's soon, but being a year and a half ahead of his peers doesn't seem all that impressive, now. The annoyance is swallowed up, though, because Charles grows a little subdued, mentioning his father.

"We read about that," Erik says. "Sorry."

Charles nods. "I was sad to hear about Edie."

The moment weighs on, and Erik finally realizes he nearly forgot about Armando, who's still-- well, he's not still there, he sidled off at some point and now he's soothing the distressed undergrad whose print job is starting to look like a distended Slinky in the build chamber. He spots Erik's glance and comes back, shaking his head a little at the plastic tangle in the printer.

"What's that mess meant to be, a model of a tesseract?" Charles asks, as cheerfully tactless as he was when he was six. At least now he's quieter about it, his voice pitched just to Erik and Armando. It makes Armando snort with amusement, but Erik feels like he ought to be shushing Charles the way he did when they were kids.

"This is my friend Armando Muñoz," Erik says instead. "Armando, this is Charles Xavier, I--" and he stops, because the rest of that sentence is _I used to babysit him_ and saying that out loud suddenly seems really creepy.

"Erik was my friend when I was young," Charles supplies, shaking Armando's hand.

"When you were young?" Armando lifts an eyebrow.

"Younger, then," Charles beams, and he scrunches up his nose adorably for a second. His gaze transfers to Erik, and now he's biting his lip on a softer smile, as if he's sensing Erik's attraction. Erik's way out of practice at shielding against a psionic of Charles's level, and his brain is clamoring with conflict-- _quit thinking like that about him, he's **sixteen,** you used to help him button his coat for fuck's sake, knock it **off**_ \-- it's the kind of thing a telepath probably can't help but pick up. 

Erik's not sure he even remembers how, but he tries to project, {{Sorry, this is weird. I know it might be loud for you. I hope you're blocking most of it.}} Shutting out thoughts used to be hard for Charles sometimes. Erik remembers the unhappy frown Charles would wear back then, too old for his small face, when he was around someone with a 'noisy head.'

{{I have a _bit_ more control than that now,}} Charles assures him silently. {{I can feel that you're embarrassed, but not much more. Don't be embarrassed! I'm so pleased to see you again.}}

"It's lovely to meet you, Armando. And you're a mutant as well!" Charles says gleefully. "I'm a telepath, but I can scarcely read anything from you."

"Enough to know I'm a mutant," Armando grins back.

"Oh, I always know that," says Charles.

"I adapt," Armando explains, and if possible, Charles lights up even more. Erik has to squelch the urge to break in and tell Charles that he's way past the coin tricks he used to do ten years ago, that he can pick up a car now if he tries.

He wrestles that down, along with the inappropriate urge to show off by dragging over something large and ferrous and heavy, while Charles interrogates Armando about his mutation, looking like he might just about pop with excitement. Erik tries to watch him and only see the little kid he used to look after, round-faced and huge-eyed. But he's so different now, a strong nose and pointed chin, the muscles of his neck defined in a pronounced V at his throat. When Erik knew him as a kid, he didn't give much thought to what Charles would look like grown up, but he kind of assumed Charles would end up looking like his father, who was a nice-looking guy in an unexceptional way-- nothing like the alchemy of Charles's rounded brow and slender cheekbones and bow mouth, all adding up to make him not just good-looking but startlingly pretty.

"I'd love to talk more about it," Charles says, giving Armando a card. He's sixteen in his first year of college, but he has business cards. It just figures, though, really; anything that can be bought, Charles could have. Erik shakes his head, only to startle when Charles gives him one too-- by tucking it into the breast pocket of his shirt. "And you. I can sense you're _much_ stronger than you were when I knew you before. I can't wait to find out how much everything's changed, Erik."

"That's, sure," Erik regroups. "I'd offer to take you out for coffee now to talk, but technically we're working. Supervising the lab."

"It's all right, I have a class starting in a few minutes anyway," Charles says. "We'll catch up soon, though, yes?"

{{Definitely,}} Erik tries sending again, and Charles looks like he couldn't smile any wider without breaking his face.

{{See you,}} Charles answers, and he steps in close and hugs Erik, a quick squeeze that's over before Erik can do much more than blink and start to blush.

"When he was _younger,"_ Armando chuckles, once Charles is gone.

"My mom and I basically lived in his family's backyard for a year and a half," Erik admits. "When he was like... six, seven."

"Backyard?"

"They had a million acres out in Westchester, north of New York. The house was literally a mansion. His dad hired my mom to tutor Charles and work on fixing up some classic cars, but I think really he just wanted us there so Charles would have other mutants around. Then someone in the family died and they went back to England for a few months, longer than my mom wanted to wait around to get her job back. So we left."

Armando nods like he's considering the whole story, but what he says is, "If you knew him at that age, you realize you were probably his first crush?"

"Will you be serious?"

"This is totally my serious face!" says Armando. "I'm not even kidding."

"Yeah," Erik sighs. "I was afraid of that."


End file.
